Issues of the Human Imagination
by noctisxsol
Summary: Humanity's greatest asset has always been its creativity and imagination. They make entirely separate worlds filled with seemingly impossible objects and items, for seemingly no practical purpose at all. Humans, however, also have a bad habit of making those fantasies into realities. Every. Single. One of them. Neither sanity nor reality will survive.
1. Obligatory Backstory Text Dump

Issues of Humanity's Imagination

Chapter 1: The Backstory Text-Dump

 **Humanity's greatest asset has always been its creativity and imagination. They make entirely separate worlds filled with seemingly impossible objects and items, for seemingly no practical purpose at all. Humans, however, also have a bad habit of making those fantasies into realities. Every. Single. One of them. Neither sanity nor reality will survive.**

 **In essence, this is a story where humanity and reality has been formed out of the caricatures that one might get if their only contact iwth humanity was anime and TV tropes, with a smattering of fanfiction. So that means:1) nearly everyone has crazy powers, 2) a near unlimited amount of faceless mooks are always available for every conflict, 3)hero ships are nigh invulnerable, 4) gratuitous artistic license, 5) obligatory harem, and 6) THE MEMES. THE MEMES ARE COMING! Be warned!...**

 **Let's begin...**

 **-** A.D. 2157, Relay 314-

Captain Hamilcar Barcus took a deep breath to savor the taste of his own command. It was only a patrol, his own heavy cruiser and a handful of frigate sent out to deter pirates. But if he did his duty well, he would surely be promoted to more active sectors, have the change to engage some pirate scum, and rise in the ranks even more. He was prepared for a long and boring patrol, but he couldn't help but wish for something that could instantly raise his name before the executors, something to really make him known. He couldn't help but dream of being the first one to discover and engage a hostile new species.

"Captain! There are strange readings near the relay!"

"Bring us in closer and get a visual."

He could just imagine it now: One of the recruits would inform his that the sensors had picked up something strange, and it would turn out to be unidentified craft in the process of breaking one of the citadel's laws. Naturally, it would be up to him to enforce order and discipline upon the savages in the only way that they would understand, force.

He could see them already, ten awkward, suit-shaped, mid-sized ships too big to be a fighter, but too small to threaten a capital ship. He scoffed at the imagined stupidity of those aliens. Seriously, who would put legs on a ship? It's a huge weak point. Those savages would surely cower and buckle under the might of his sensibly designed Turian ship! "Tell the fleet to close in as tight as they possibly can. We can't allow them to get between our ships. Once everyone is in position, open fire on the closest ship. We need to make a point, and these savages don't deserve negotiations."

Only once the words left his mouth did he realize that this was reality, not a fantasy.

The second after the slug left barrel of the cannon, Barcus began to think that he had made a very foolish choice. What made him think this? Perhaps it was the way that reality slowed down to highlight the slug piercing the alien ship's hull. Maybe it was the way that he could head the aliens' shocked gasps despite no communication channels being open. Or just maybe it was the way that all of reality warped to display the pierced ship in an artistic black silhouette against the suddenly red background of space before everything reverted and time returned to its normal flow as the ship was engulphed in a fireball.

"What in the name of the spirits just happened?" "Did space just turn red because of that ship?" "Did they just manipulate time?" The recruits were buzzing in confusion and alarm. They had all destroyed pirate ships before, and nothing like that had even happened before. Especially not the fireball: seriously, how was there enough oxygen in that small of a ship to make a fire that large?

But there was no chance to go back on his decision, since dozens of the ships were hurtling toward them faster than any fighter they had ever seen. The Turains barely had time to register or question how the enemy had multiplied their forces before the ships rocketed past them. A few of the suits fired off heavy missiles that blasted apart the fighter bays, rendered the main gun inoperable, and damaged the engines.

"How did those ships get so close without being shot down? Why isn't the GADIAN system firing? Give me a status report!"

The recruit stared frantically at the garbled reading the sensors were giving him. "They can't get a target, Sir! Those ships are emitting something that's scrambling all of our sensor readings! The navigations aren't even working properly, the support frigates are ramming into each other trying to evade!"

Barcus slammed his fist on the railing of his command platform. "Damnit! Activate the emergency external lights, we'll communicate that way. And find some way to link those lasers to manual control! They're our best bet of surviving this!" His left hand clenched into a fist. "This is bad. This is very bad."

Then bad went to worse. He never gave any thought as to how ships that size were able to fly out this far. Their home ship materialized in front of the commander's cruiser with its main cannon glowing. If it were a normal ship, he would have considered it a mere frigate and dismissed it. With their unusual technology, however, it may as well have been a whole fleet of dreadnoughts.

As the new ship charged some kind of weapon, Barcus turned to his crew. "We have tasted defeat this day at the hands of a new and savage race. The Citadel must know about this." His crew stared back at him, eyes steeled with determination. "Communications officers have first priority to use the escape pods. Officers manning any unusable or destroyed systems are next. Everyone else will stay and keep the attention of these barbarians."

Everyone nodded grimly and a handful of officers stood and marched to the escape pods. Even in defeat the Turians maintained their discipline.

Not that their discipline mattered when a blast of light lanced through the ship and everything was consumed in a blast of heat.

That was the Turian's first contact with humanity. It did not go very well.

-One Week Later-

General Oraka took another heavy drink as he read over another patrol report. Nothing, nothing, pirates destroyed, nothing. Everything was standard and in order, nothing to worry about. _"Though… That new commander should be reporting in soon, and my daughter is commanding one of those ships… Ah, here it is… a Video file? Now this is interesting._ "

The general opened the file and was shocked to see a fabled albino Asari with a painted face. It opened its mouth and spoke in a rough, unflanged Turian. "Greetings. I am human, alien outside Citadel. Meet Turians, Turians attack. Break front ship, others crash so we help others. Meet daughter of you, know her. Permission for courtship?"

The general's head was spinning. This was a whole new species? What happened to the patrol? What did they do to his daughter?

Then, as if to answer his fears, his daughter entered the frame laughing. "That was so rough! Still, I'm impressed that you did so well for your first week." The Asari look-alike had a pout on its face as his daughter said something in a foreign language. She rubbed her head against his, then turned to the camera. "This is Commander Dinara Oraka, reporting in place of Captain Barcus. One week ago, Captain Barcus encountered a group of human scientists in Mobile Suits studying a Relay. Assuming that they were attempting to activate it, and assuming that diplomacy was impossible, he opened fire and destroyed one of the ships. The humans retaliated, and destroyed Barcus' ship in clear self-defense. Their technology interferes with sensors and communications, and the other ships in the patrol were damaged by debris and collisions. The humans took us on their ship, and took care of us. They even figured out that we were dextro!" She reigned in her growing enthusiasm with a deep breath.

"To summarize the rest, I was appointed the diplomat to this new race and have been working closely with Rear Admiral Hackett to develop translation between our languages and make sure that our people are well cared for. With the Hierarchy's permission, I shall continue diplomatic endeavors with the humans, up to and including courtship… with your permission, Father. Wider contact should be feasible within the month. Oraka out."

The general stared at the screen in utter shock. "I should report this… But first I think I'll need a stronger drink and a visit to the Consort to deal with this…"

-One Month Later-

General Oraka stood next to the trio of councilors, Waiting for the human's entrance onto the galactic stage. Everyone on the Citadel, it seemed, had turned out for the event. The Salarian councilor was talking his fringes off, asking question he couldn't answer. "How big are their ships? What is the average composition of their fleets? How did they manage to destroy a Turian Cruiser? Are they Dextro or Levo? What will be their relationship with the Hierarchy? What are their security systems like?"

The answers started with the appearance of the majestic White Base. Most civilians were looking at it in awe, the Salarian was already analyzing it. "It measures two and a half hundred meters. It would be a mere frigate by our standards. While aesthetically impressive, it is rather poorly designed. Perhaps this is a sign that they are rather more artistically inclined, rather than military. Though that does raise the question of how they were able to destroy a superior ship if that were so…" He frowned as his omni-tool beeped angrily at him. "And it appears that they have somehow installed measures against scanning. Intriguing. But I believe that we can safely deduce that this is one of the larger ships in their fleet. They likely focus on swarming tactics to overwhelm their enemies, like many lesser species."

Oraka dearly wanted to punch the Salarian in the face but was spared the effort when the rest of the task force did the same metaphorically.

The second ship in the small fleet was where fear began to set in. The ship was easily dreadnought size, topping a kilometer long and bristling with weapons. It was much more sensibly designed, with a more compact and stout frame supporting two hangars on the side. It was marked "Battle Star class - Galactica V"

The third ship gave everyone significant pause. This dreadnought was over double the Citadel's largest ship, the Destiny ascension. It roughly resembled the barrel of a gun with a main cannon that seemed to match its size. A race with the means the build ships like that was at least equal to the best of the Citadel. It was marked "UNSC Class - Infinity +1"

But it was the last ship that caused a sense of silent dread to settle over everyone in the Citadel. The ship was enormous, nearly half as long as one of the arms of the Citadel and it even contained an entire city on top of its hull. It was ten times larger than anything they had ever seen before. Just this single ship could likely challenge the entire Citadel. It was dubbed "Imperial Executor Class - Vader's Fist."

The Salarian councilor was stunned into silence, and was barely even aware that a trio of ships had landed from the smallest of the four vessels. Three humans and one Turian were making their way to the assembled politicians for Humanity's grand reveal.

"Greetings. We are humanity. We come in peace." Hackett approached the general and held out both his hands face up. "Father General Oraka, I humbly beseech the hand of your daughter for bonding our Spirits in Marriage. It shall be as a sign of peace between our peoples for the building of a greater future." When the general didn't say anything, the admiral slipped into English and turned to his Turian girlfriend. "Is that right? I didn't accidently say we're potatoes again, right?"

Dinara bit back a chuckle at Hackett's attempts at being formal and responded in English. "No, it was very good for a month of study. But just in case, let me translate please Dear?"

The Salarian found his voice before anyone else had the chance to speak. "How could you possibly have constructed these ships!? Your empire cannot be more than a handful of system without the Relays linking them together, there is no way you could have gathered the materials for this! The required Element Zero alone would make construction on this scale unthinkable!"

As Dinara did her best to translate the question, Hackett pondered how best to break the news of humanity's true abilities. "Yeah, about that… Things like limits and practicality don't apply when you're talking about humans. We discovered that limits were illusions long ago. It is said that the gods no longer dwell among humans, but instead they dwell within humans."

The Asari Councilor looked scandalized. "What are you saying! That's absurd!"

Hackett considered his words very carefully. "Humanity can do whatever it wants, and reality just has to deal with it."

Pandemonium erupted as a pair of dark glasses descended onto the Admiral's face from nowhere. Maybe that could have gone better.

-Codex: Humanity-

Humanity is the newest member of the Galactic community. The first thing that most note about them is their similarity to Asari, which holds true in a startling number of instances. Humans, however, do exhibit a greater range of variation than any known species yet encountered. Almost every feature that could be characteristic of humans is either changed or negated in one of their sub-types, yet those beings still classify themselves under the banner of humanity. Therefore, what is said in this article will be in reference to "Mainline" or "Pure" humans.

Humans are bipedal mammals that breath oxygen and give birth to live young. Their skin tones range from white to dark brown, with the color of their fur generally being either black, brown, yellow or white. They possess two arms, two legs, and two eyes (notable exceptions: Monster-men/Monster-girls). Their average height ranges from 1.5 to 1.9 meters (notable exceptions: Dwarves and Giants). They are divided into two sexes, male and female at a ratio of four to five. They are based on Levo Amino Acids, but were discovered to be able to digest Dextro amino acids due to a prank that spiraled out of control (Link: Hackett Wedding).

In many ways, their society is a study in opposites. They despise war yet are eager to fight. They consider life sacred but elevate strong fighters capable of untold destruction. They consider the two genders to be equal but they are treated very differently; e.g. Strong males are encouraged to gather a harem of women as wives, and the women are expected to eagerly join, yet still compete with the other women in their family. This leads to their astounding population growth. It is greater than any other civilized race's, barring only the Rachni and the Krogans before the genophage. In addition, they have shown the ability to breed with most sentient species that possess a female gender (Link: Populcana Hackett).

Human's most potent advantage is their ability to impose their own reality on the universe. The explanations vary, some claim that they are pulling power from the Warp, other claim that they are harnessing Spiral Energy, the very power of evolution. In general, these abilities are called Esper Powers. They are sorted into six ranks based on their strength.

Level Zero of Null Espers display no powers of their own, most often because they have traded in the intrinsic powers for greater scientific knowledge or have devoted themselves to a deity who then enacts miracles which function much the same as higher level ESPers.

Level One Espers have no personal control over their abilities, and only have the ability to subconsciously warp reality to fit their expectations. Alone, a single Level One can do things such as keep an object in their hands at a constant temperature, or allow women to pull large blunt object from thin air. In large groups, however, even level One Espers are capable of unconsciously creating of a legion of fully armed and sentient soldiers if they all believe that a band of reinforcements are on their way. This is why battles between human factions are primarily decided by single combat between their leaders.

Level Two Espers have control over their abilities, but are limited to materializing or utilizing things from a single other universe that other have imagined. For example, a Level Two might be able to summon a fully functioning rifle if they have seen it being fired in a vid, but could not create a new gun from their imagination. This applies to abilities as well. One of the most common types of Level Two Espers is the Jedi (Link: The War of the Stars). They are space monks wielding laser swords that exhibit many abilities similar to a biotic. However, to repeat, a Level Two is restrained to a single "universe" which they draw from.

Level Three Espers, then, are similar to Twos, except that they are able to draw from multiple universes.

Level Four Espers are aware of and have near total control over their own universe called a "Pocket Dimension", with the ability to create and pull things out of it. Physics of that reality is different, and the object acts with the physics of its own universe. This has been used for a great many pranks, such as the infamous "Sturdy chair" which breaks whenever someone under a certain mass sits in it.

Level Five Espers are the pinnacle of control over reality. Not only do they have near absolute control over their own "Pocket Dimension" but they also have the ability to draw other objects and people into that other universe as well. Almost all of their greatest artists, writers, and visionaries were of this level, and would partially draw people into another universe through their works. These would then go on to inspire others to create an ever-expanding arsenal for humankind.

These abilities can make humans an unparalleled ally… or an unstoppable foe. Only a fool would provoke them without a well laid plan and overwhelming force.

-Two Months Later, A Group of Fools, Mindor-

Eluam Ran'perah was an ideal Batarian. He helped crew a pirate vessel for five years, and just last year he saved up enough to pay for his own ship and crew and started raiding colonies for slaves. When he heard that the Hegemony was paying top dollar for any group that could successfully get their hands on some human slaves, he took the initiative.

So why was he now leading a fleet of stolen ships, manned by freed slaves, in order to take down the Hegemony?

It began when the attack on Mindor actually launched. It seemed like a full half of the pirates in the Terminus had shown up for the party, a fleet equal to almost anything the Council could put together. It almost seemed laughably like overkill when they jumped into the system and found only a handful of ships opposing them. They actually did laugh when they saw the design of the ships: bulky with guns sitting on top of them like someone lifted a sea-faring vessel right into space.

"Unknown vessels, this is the SA Yamato 2099. You are trespassing on human space, turn back or we will be forced to fire."

The Batarians didn't even bother to respond. They felt invincible.

That feeling died when the humans started to open fire and decimated the Batarian ships with lasers and missiles that traveled at a full half of the speed of light. Each salvo of fire from the human ships left swathes of destruction in their wake. By the time the once terrifying fleet had reached the atmosphere, less than a tenth of the original ships remained while the Human ships were largely undamaged.

But just because they were too close to the planet for the space captains to dare fire on them, didn't mean that they had reached safety. No, their trials had only just begun. A number of the ships were yanked right into the ground, pulled in by a group of humans in brown robes. Those that weren't immediately trashed had to contend with the fighters that were swarming the landing party. Attacks on the human's ships quickly proved to be pointless, as they were easily dodged by the nimble human ships. One frustrated pirate was so fed up with the situation that he tried to turn his weapons on the colony, but the cannon exploded rather than firing, destroying the ship.

Finally, Eluam's ship managed to reach the ground in one piece, with the few other slave transport ships that were left. Landing brought no comfort however. When they left their vessels, they were nonchalantly greeted by a tall man wearing a tight muscle shirt and long scarf. The pirates raised their guns to shoot him, but were struck by clackers sparkling with some kind of energy which let them tear through bone and flesh like it was nothing. Soon, only a handful were left from the original hundred strong crew.

The man casually walked up to the Batarians, deflecting any bullets shot at him with that same strange energy. He locked eyes with Eluam. "Let me guess," the human began "the next thing you're going to say is 'this is impossible! We should be superior!'"

"This is impossible! We should be superior!" The moment the words left his mouth, Eluam knew that he was utterly beaten.

The Batarian captain did the only sensible thing left. He ran for his life. He dropped his overheating gun and ran into the woods, not caring where he was going, only that it was away from that human. He forgot his comrades, his rank, his race, his name and even time itself as he ran for his life.

The next thing Eluam was aware of was the sound of children arguing as he lay face down in some bushes.

"But Ashey, you always get to be the mommy! You have to be the baby this time, otherwise it's not fair!"

"It is fair Talitha, I'm older than you so I get to be the mommy. Besides, you get to play with John all the time when you're at home. You can be the mommy then."

"You're only older by a year, it's not fair. I'm not gunna play house if I have to be the baby again! Onii-chan, tell Ashey she has to be the baby this time!"

"Maybe we can find someone else who wants to play, and our house will have two mommies; like my Mommy and Talitha's Mommy are both in our house."

The Batarian tried to tried to quietly crawl away from the humans, but the rustling of the bushes caught their attention.

The male spread his arms wide and placed himself in front of the two girls. Eluam took the opportunity to throw his hands out in surrender.

The two men stared at each other. John dropped his guard first and grabbed the Batarian by the arm. "You're perfect! We needed someone to be the baby, and here you are! Now Sis 'n Ashey can both be mommies!" the boy was beaming, and tugged the Batarian over to the tree stump where the two girls were seated. "We're playing house! I'm the daddy, Ashey is mother mommy, Sis Talitha is second mommy, and you'll be the baby. We'll call you Eli!" The frightened Batarian was barely paying attention as he noticed the forest around him shifting into a cozy house. Images of grown women superimposed themselves on the girls, and then became reality. The boy himself was replaced by the image of the man who had slaughtered the rest of Eli's crew.

Eluam tried to shout, run, do anything, but his body wasn't responding. He realized that he himself had been reduced to the body of a child, being cooed and coddled by the two women. His mind overloaded with information as knowledge of this other life flowed into him. Then he was lost as time leaped forwards and backwards, his mind flooded with days at school, family dinners, birthday parties, trips with his human father; five lifetimes of living as a human child filled his mind by the time they stopped playing ten minutes later so John could use the potty.

With the boy gone, normal reality resumed, and Eluam was harshly ejected into his adult, Batarian body. His hands shook as he realized what he had done in his life. He thought that he was so smart, so superior to anything else in the galaxy that he was justified in the monstrous things he had done.

He stood up. No longer would he be Eluam the Slaver. Now he would be Eluam the Liberator, a man on a mission to atone for his sins. And he knew just how to begin. A few simple commands from his omni-tool gave him the location of the closest slave processing camp. It wouldn't be standing for long when his access codes turned the automated security on the slavers…

-One Week Later-

The Shepherd family sat down to dinner with the news playing the background. "The Vol protectorate is still protesting the entrance of human companies into the galactic economy. They are pushing for a boycott of human made products, claiming that, quote 'they violate all known principals of conservation of matter, and invalidate every tenant needed to maintain a stable galactic economy.' The Human Economic Council will be meeting with Vol leaders to try to resolve their differences.

In other news, the Batarian Hegemony has released its statement saying that it will not surrender to the demands of Eluam the Liberator. Eluam the Liberator was a former slaver who had a change of heart after realizing the horrors that the Hegemony inflicted and has since been working to free all the slaves previously held by the Hegemony and to create a more peaceful government. In a recent interview he told our reporter, 'The Hegemony has always been flagrantly breaking both the laws of the Citadel, as well as all laws of decency and morality. I contributed to the pain and misery, and it has become my mission to atone for my sin. I intend to end this evil, if I have to take this fight all the way to Kharshan itself.'"

John pointed to the screen with a wide smile. "Hey, it's baby Eli! I hope he had fun playing house with us. Maybe he'll play again the next time he visits."

Joseph Shepherd looked between his son and the famous freedom fighter on the screen. "Johnathan, you brainwashed another sentient being so bad that he would eagerly kill himself if he could meet the him before the indoctrination... Good job. You get extra desert tonight."

Talitha latched onto her brother's side. "Yay! Onii-chan did a good thing!"

"I'm not sharing my dessert just because you're cute, Talitha."

The girl pouted, before gaining a devious smile. "What if I eat it out of your mouth? Then we can both enjoy it!"

As John tried to fend off his desert crazed step-sister, Suzie Q leaned over to whisper to her sister wife, "We're trying to raise them like real siblings, right? They're still brother and sister, even if they aren't related."

Holly gave a beaming smile. "Of course. They siblings in all but blood. Which is exactly why I'm trying to set them up. Won't they just look so cute together? And she'll make the perfect girl to sharpen his skills before he gathers his own harem, just like his dad."

As the two women looked at their happy little family, both of them had the distinct thought that the galaxy wasn't ready for John to grow up.

 **Chapter 1 Done.** This is going to be a parody romp with as many references and tropes shoved in as possible. It started with the thought, "What would aliens think of humanity if all they knew was anime and TV tropes?" It's not that every single human is capable of beating gods, but even normal humans in a group can warp reality to the point where they are undefeatable. It's almost like the placebo effect taken to its logical extreme. Then you get level twos and the fun really begins, until Level fives are pretty much basically gods. They can still be beaten by psychological assaults and surprise attacks, but good luck getting them off.

If you couldn't tell, this story is not serious, and is basically a parody of all those over-powered humanity stories. I hope you enjoyed, and leave a review if you want to see this story keep moving.


	2. Shepard Created Waifus, and it was Good

Issues of Humanity's Imagination

Chapter 2: Shepard Created Waifus, and It was Good

 **Humanity's greatest asset has always been its creativity and imagination. They make entirely separate worlds filled with seemingly impossible objects and items, for seemingly no practical purpose at all. Humans, however, also have a bad habit of making those fantasies into realities. Every. Single. One of them. Neither sanity nor reality will survive.**

-Salarian STG Mission Profile: Johnathan Shepard-

Johnathan "John" Luke Shepard has been the "golden child" of humanity almost since his birth. His father used to be the face of the Human military as one of the strongest level three Espers, before retiring at the news of his son's birth. The boy quickly revealed himself to be an Esper stronger than his father when his mother entered his room late at night to find a copy of herself feeding him. The copy handed him off to her with a wink, before disappearing. Similar incidents confirmed that the child was a level four Esper before he could even talk, a feat which was unheard throughout human history. Eluam the Liberator's change of heart confirmed that John had achieved level five.

Humanity has already upset the fragile balance of power within the galaxy, to the point where simulations estimate that a Human-Turian alliance will conquer the citadel within a decade if things continue at their current rate, less if the Batarians join them under Eluam's leadership. If the target is allowed to continue his development, he will be able to singlehanded conquer the galaxy for humanity. The tests performed on human volunteers were largely inconclusive, and no humans have so far been successfully captured for experimentation. Therefore, your mission is to neutralize the threat that the target holds to the galaxy, with a secondary objective being his capture and transport to an STG base for analysis and experimentation.

WARNING! AVOID CONTACT AT ALL COSTS! SUBJECT SEEMS TO HAVE ABILITIES CAPABLE OF COMPLETE MENTAL DOMINATION. ELIMINATE ANY OPERATIVES WHO HAVE CONTACT FOR SAFETY.

-Mindor-

The team of operatives watched from cover as the ten year old boy played a game with his father that involved hitting a thrown ball with some kind of metal club. They all had to admitt that they were dangerously close to the target as another ball whizzed past one of the operative's faces. This was supposed to be a simple information gathering excursion, but none of the operatives' longer range surveillance tech seemed to be working in forest where the humans lived. They lost contact with their first two advance scouts that they sent out alone, leaving the team leader to make the decision to send a larger group just for Recon. It wasn't going as well as he had hoped.

[CRAAAAAACK!]

[SLAM!] [THUD!]

More operatives meant more targets for the boy to hit with the balls that he sent flying from his club. The ranged attacks seemed random, but no matter where they went, the ball would still find them; off to the right, off to the left, directly behind, one of the team would be struck and knocked out by a suspiciously common random occurrence.

"We need to fall back and rethink our strategy!"

"It's too late for that! If we retreat, we'll be unable to hide the evidence of our observation! We must hold the line!"

"There is no line! Most of the squad is already down; they'll find us out whether we stay or flee! The only difference is if the mission will be able to continue!"

"We need to-" The mission commander stopped short as a feeling of nameless dread filled him. The older human was talking.

"Alright, John. You ready for the Grand Slam? Gunna hit it right out of the Sandlot! Gonna have a Big Wind-up, and you'd better show me a home run for the ages!"

The two Salarians looked at each other. Both realized the true danger they were in at the same time. They both turned to flee, but the ball that went flying in an impossible arc struck both of them before continuing to knock out the rest of the task force.

Joseph Shepard casually jogged out into the woods and began piling the unconscious Salarians together for pick-up and interrogation.

That simple and elegant plan was shot to pieces when John came wandering to the edge of the woods, bat on his shoulder. "Dad? What are you doing? Who are you picking up? Why were they here? Are they aliens?"

If the boy knew he was being watched by aliens, there would be no end to the insanity he would manifest. On the other hand, a lie could be even more dangerous. The only chance for a semi-peaceful resolution would be misdirection and careful presentation of facts. "Yeeess? They aren't from around here, but I mean, if you want to be technical we're aliens to Earth so…"

Johnathan mulled the thought over in his head, before deciding to follow an entirely different path. "Why were they here? Did they want to play too? They were pretty bad outfielders if they couldn't catch any of the balls."

Joseph scrambled to follow the new train of thought. "They, um, wanted to meet you! Get to know you, probably invite you to stay over with them for a while…"

"Really?" The boy had that look. The kind of look where you just know he's forming connection between unrelated things and the next thing out of his mouth will make sense only to him. "So they're here on behalf of a princess who wants to marry me? I bet their princess is super cute, like Tsu from that old show great-grandpa showed us!"

Before there was any chance to set the record straight, reality had already been altered. The Salarians morphed until they looked barely different from humans, and they all gained additional frog-like attributes. Thousands of years of study into Salarian biology was suddenly rendered moot.

The biggest change, however, was the new addition waiting on the team's hidden ship.

The former STG team decided to settle down that day. After all, the team leader's daughter was dating the Shepard boy.

-Arcturus Space Colony, Casting Call Hall-

Joseph Shepard took his seat at the head table in the Council of Protagonists and started leafing through the briefing reports, blatantly ignoring the Generic Harem Gary-Stu next to him. Personally, he would have preferred to stay with his friends in the Jump Force at the Shonen table two rows back, but Mr. Son was dead again and he drew the short straw to fill in for the Saiyan.

At least the position at the head table gave him a good view of the meeting room. The meeting area was best described as a bowl of stadium seating surrounding a central speaking and display platform. The level one Espers were the furthest out, forming the rim of the bowl. The level twos and threes were next, arranged by their roles and tropes: the scif-fi groups had their own anti-gravity platforms, for example. He sent a brief wave to his friends in The Union of Sidekicks and The Assembly of Anti-Heroes. The Gathering of Villains was still lacking a final name, but their current one was The Amassing of Antagonists. Other smaller groups existed, like the Love Interest Legion for example, but it was those four who constituted the largest overarching blocs.

Gathered around the platform itself at the base of the bowl were the levels four, five, and zero. Each of them was seated on a throne that represented their sphere of influence. Chancellor Asimov, for example, had a robotic throne, while Chairman Kojima had a chair formed out of stealth, awesomeness, and utter confusion. John was with the rest of the Level Fives, cuddling with his cute frog-girl girlfriend.

Then the supplicant was called in. "I am Admiral Rael'Zorah vas Rayya. I come on behalf of the Migrant Fleet of the Quarians. We offer ourselves to your service if you would just fulfil our request. All we ask is that you reclaim our home-world of Rannock from our machine creations, the Geth. If you aid us in this, the Quarian race will become your servants. Whatever ships or wealth that we have are yours, and we will gladly work for you. Should there be a man worthy, I shall even offer my own daughter as a show of our sincerity." A smaller Quarian stepped forward to join her father on the platform, nerves visible even through the suit.

Dr. Wiley from the Villain section was the first to hit the buzzer for a question. "What are the capabilities of these Geth? What is the manner of their creation?"

The admiral stood tall. "The Geth were originally created to do simple menial labor, but we added in the ability to network their systems to allow them to perform more and more complex tasks. We were careful to avoid outright upgrading them into AI status, but in our folly we brought them there in steps. Our gradual upgrades, combined with their networking, gave them the processing power to become sentient. When we realized what had happened, we took action to destroy them, but it was already too late. The Geth killed all of the Quarians living on Rannock. Less than one percent of our race survived. The full details of their construction and rebellion are included in the report."

The whole assembly was silent. Rael took it as shocked silence at the fate of his people.

Then the laughter started. First it was just the level fives. Then some of the Level Zeros joined in. As understanding passed up the ranks, everyone listening soon joined into the laughter.

Rael was left wondering if there was an error in the translation software, before Asimov of the Level Fives stood to address him. "My apologies Admiral Rael, the death of your people was indeed tragic, and we don't want to dishonor their memory… But seriously? You actually lost to a machine uprising? In straight conventional warfare? Did no one in your entire race know how computers work? Did no one on that entire planet actually stop to think about the fact that they were fighting a network of robots? No EMP, no jamming, didn't even think to trick them; From my perspective, it looks like the only research that your people did before launching what must have been the stupidest war ever was to read some old trash sci-fi!" The man fell back into his seat, unable to contain his laughter.

A Level Zero researcher stood up. "My name is Thomas Light. I am the researcher who designed and built Megaman X. I spent the majority of my life discovering the secrets of sentience, and understanding how to create a robot that can truly think and decide like a human. I know what it takes for a robot to become truly sentient, and I honestly find it insulting that someone would even think that the Geth could become sentient. You don't get a sentient creature by linking up calculators; it's more complex than a few lines of code and raw processing power."

With the main points spoken, the lower levels began to throw in their own opinions. "Why didn't you think to jam their communications? Then they would've been too dumb to do anything!" "Or just tell them you had an upgrade and they all had to shut down to get it!" "Or build more geth who wouldn't have the networking to fight the other geth!" "Do you even science, brah?"

"ORDER! ORDER!" Touma Kamijou, the chief of the level Zeros, rapped a gavel on a podium. "You have heard the supplicant. Will Any World-Builders sponsor this quest?"

"Ooh, ooh! Me! Me!" John was bouncing up and down in excitement. He couldn't contain himself at the thought that he would be getting another friend to play with.

"Do you understand everything involved with the mission?" John shook his head, the smile never leaving his face. "Such misfortune. Who else wishes to involve themselves in this story?"

Johnathan immediately stood up. "I volunteer as a secondary protagonist, mentor type." Multiple groans sounded from the other protagonists who wanted the role.

Dr. Wiley was the first up for the villains. "Robots are my specialty, I shall be his adversary."

Lois Lane stood up to speak for the Love interest Legion. "It won't do for the poor girl to be lonely. I'll arrange for a group of girls to keep her company and push the romantic tension."

Touma waited for the giggling to die down before speaking again. "Such misfortune… This will be a story written and led by John Shepard, Supported by Joseph Shepard as a mentor, Wiley will serve as antagonist, with a love story sub-plot. Is there anything else you would like to add to the synopsis as World-builder, Shepard?"

The boy hummed for a second, before a smile bloomed across his face. "At the final battle, The villainous Doctor will deploy a group of robot girls to distract the hero! He frees them from the doctor's control and they all live happily ever after!"

Another round of giggles passed throughout the bowl. Touma could only groan. "Such misfortune…"

-Codex: Human Government-

As with almost everything concerning humans, this topic is unclear and sometimes self-contradicting. Humans seem to have no overarching government, instead being divided into countless kingdoms, states, nations, and Empires. A clear map of who controls what would be impossible to make, since these borders are constantly changing due to the powers of the human leading the territories and what the humans call "The Needs of the Plot." On occasion, these smaller governments will seem to disappear, only to reappear later as if nothing happened. Empires will conquer and control unimaginable swathes of territory, then disappear overnight when the ruler dies.

Ordinarily, a level two will control part of a planet, a level three will rule a whole planet, a level four will watch over a solar system, and a level five will lead all the planets of a star cluster. There is rumor of a fabled Level Six Esper who will be the true God-Emperor of Mankind and alone has the right to rule, but there is no evidence of this so far.

Humans seem to have no regard for the subtleties of politics, holding the opinion that individual rulers should be allowed to do as they please. Any leaders that are guilty of unethical actions are taken down by various means, leading to explanations leading from Karma to Divine justice.

The only gathering of humans that are representative of the whole species is gathered at the Arcturus Space Colony. The gatherings are refereed to as "Casting Calls" and are used to gather volunteers, or "actors" for "Quests" or "Stories." These quests are frequently used as a way to fulfil requests from humans and aliens alike. Sometimes a reward is extracted from the supplicant, other times the only reward expected is the renown of having completed the request.

Many human leaders do not allow aliens on their worlds, wishing to avoid involving non-humans in the seemingly random acts of destruction that occur. These cannot be stopped, as are often integral parts of a human's ascension to higher level esper powers. Worlds like these have been marked with various designations of danger, ranging from "Training Ground" at the low end of danger, to "Hometown" which is the highest level of danger.

-Ten Years Later, Elysium-

Johnathan Shepard was sleeping silently when a loud crash shook him awake. He glanced around the room, pried himself out of the arms of his unconscious brides, and looked out the tinted window. He saw an old style Batarian fighter crashed into the middle of the street. As he watched, more fighters jumped into the skies above the city, a few crashing into the ground in the process.

Fortunately, it wasn't his responsibility. He was on his honeymoon. The only thing he was expected to do for the next week was figure out all the sweet spots to satisfy his wives.

He climbed back into bed and laid a gentle kiss on each of his four wives. More cuddling was in order.

Then another crash sounded, and the girls started unwillingly waking.

"Five more minutes, Kero…" That would be his Frog-Salarian wife, Tsu.

"Can I have another massage before I have to put the suit back on?" Tali was enjoying the perks of having a reality warping husband in some of the strangest ways.

"Sensors indicate a 100% chance of a successful Honeymoon. I look forward to raising our child together, Shepard." The semi-synthesized voice belonged to the robot girl that he had saved ten years ago, EDI. "That was a joke."

His final wife was already up and checking the situation outside the one-way window. "Looks like a pirate attack. The idiots are trying to jump straight into atmosphere." Ashley was just as much a soldier as Shepard, if less of a hero. "Are you going to take care of them, Skipper?"

John drew her into another kiss rather than answering. "It's our honeymoon. My only responsibility is to you four right here…"

The romantic moment was broken when the window shattered. John immediately moved to cover his wife's naked body with his own; partly to protect her from the shards of glass, partly to deepen the kiss, and mostly so that no other man would see what was his. Slightly possessive, perhaps, but considering that it drove him to make sure that each of his wives were as happy as possible and fulfilled their dreams? None of them ever had reason to complain.

Pulling his thoughts back to reality, Shepard summoned a bullet-proof silk sheet for Ashley. "I'm sorry Hunny, you were right. I'll go take care of them now."

John casually stepped out of the second story window and onto the ground below. He was met by a frantic squire of the house of Jenkins. "I'm glad you're here M'lord. We don't know what the pirates want, but we have divined that their first target is the space dock. What are your commands, Sir?"

Time warped around Shepard as he ran through billions of battle plans, calculating attacks, reactions, counters and positioning. In the span of that half second, he spent years perfecting eleven different battle plans that could defeat an army ten times the size of the one jumping into the atmosphere.

"Go find a restraint that's open and get them to start a breakfast burger cooking for me. After that go get yourself some chicken." Once time resumed he realized that he was actually rather hungry and mad, and decided to just take the most straight-forward route. The poor fools wouldn't even know what hit them.

-60 Second Later-

The remaining remnant of the largest Terminus fleet ever assembled bowed to the ground in the presence of their new god. After all, who else but a god could have physically pulled all of them out of their airborne ships? Who but a god could have undone the destruction of an army with a wave of his hands. Who else but a god could instantly raise the dead? Who else but a god would do all of that naked, and still have people bowing before. Now that is intimidation.

The whispers started at the back, coming mostly from the resurrected humans. "Level 6." "Transcendent." "The God-Emperor of Mankind."

The murmurs soon grew into chants, and before long everyone was groveling at his feet for the chance to kiss his feet.

John just sighed. All he wanted was to get back to his hotel and cuddle with his wives.

"FOR THE EMPRAH!"

- **Chapter 2 End-**

Reality? Consistancy? Cannon? What are these foreign concepts? Still I hope you enjoyed chapter 2 of super-power humans being super-powered; now with 35% more worldbuilding!


	3. In which Humans are Opressed

Issues of Humanity's Imagination

Chapter 3: In which Humans are Oppressed

 **Humanity's greatest asset has always been its creativity and imagination. They make entirely separate worlds filled with seemingly impossible objects and items, for seemingly no practical purpose at all. Humans, however, also have a bad habit of making those fantasies into realities. Every. Single. One of them. Neither sanity nor reality will survive.**

-Castle Hackett-

"So let me get this straight: This is supposed to be hero ship for a galaxy spanning story, right?"

"Yes, and you're the up and coming officer who will be forced by the situation to take command of this unique prototype ship to save the galaxy."

"I get that part; I'm just… Is it really incapable of even crossing dimensions? Or breaking time-space? Or even glassing a planet?"

Admiral Hackett drained his glass and let out a long sigh. "Honey, could you check on the kids? I'm worried they're trying to put together a coup against 'Cana."

Dinara stood and kissed her husband on the cheek. "Just remember that you still need to pay back anything bad you say about the Turians, even if I'm not here."

Hackett rubbed his head against hers and ran his arms around her waist. "Nothing too bad, mostly just complaining about Turian stubbornness and their treaties. I just want to be sure we have some privacy when we need to 'duel for honor.'"

The Turian gave a fanged smile. "You know, the most frustrating and appealing trait about humans is that they're never fully satisfied."

The admiral grinned back. "You know, the most frustrating and appealing thing about you is your sense of duty. That makes it extra special when I can get you to relax and spoil you."

"Aren't you done flirting yet?" Ashley accusingly cleared her throat and gestured at the door, where the rest of Shepard's wives were waiting. "I mean, it's cute, but it's kind of weird at your age. I mean, you're the older mentor figure, shouldn't you two be having conversations with just a look?"

Dinara looked up, amazement evident on her face. "You mean to tell me that humans can really communicate mind to mind? Even after all these years they never cease to amaze me…"

"Statistically speaking, fifty percent of human couples report being able to convey meaning without words by the fifth year of their marriage…" EDI, Dinara, and the rest of the women chatted their way down the hallway, until the door closed, leaving the two men alone in the room.

Hackett stood to gaze out of an anachronistic window into the setting sun. "The Turians are getting nervous, Shepard. The Citadel has been unsettled ever since first contact, and it's only gotten worse ever since. The Asari feel threatened and are lashing out at everyone else. We outclass them in every way except average life-span, and the existence of half-Asari goes against everything they though they knew about their species. The Volus are completely lost; Humans apparently violate every law of stable economics that they know. The Salarians are still pissed about their sudden transformation all those years ago. The Hanar are on the brink of civil war in their religious debates. The Elcor… are actually pretty chill with all of this, but the rest of the Citadel races are looking for ways to force humanity into accepting Citadel restrictions."

Shepard joined his mentor staring out Window of Dramatic Exposition. "What about the Batarians? Quarians? Geth? Krogan? Even if I don't technically hold positions, I'm still the de facto leader of four species. Aren't they supporting us?"

"They are. But none of them have much say. All of them only joined or rejoined the Citadel within the decade, leaving them precious little in the way of social connections. Making themselves conspicuous would only make things worse in the long run. The Forums are already flooded with conspiracy theories that the Turians are going to join with the human bloc and conquer the Citadel."

The younger man barked out a laugh. "That's stupid, humans conquer the Citadel... What kind of story would that make? 'God swats fly?' Any why would we want to team up with the Turians to do so? They're the closest to a decent antagonist on the entire Council!"

"Don't be too harsh, there might be some good stories from that. Granted, most of them would be Not Safe for Work. The Asari have some weird fantasies. I once saw one of their 'Maidens' trying to convince a Hanar to take her as a slave."

An awkward silence followed that announcement.

"I'm sorry, did that break your age-content guidelines?"

"No, it's vague enough that the censors can't really get mad. I upped my adventures to teen after that whole debacle on Elysium anyway. I'm just really reconsidering adding an Asari to my harem now is all."

The admiral turned away from the window and blinked the spots out of his eyes. "I'd suggest going for one yet, the blue can do wonders to tie a harem together if you find a girl with the right personality. And on that note, you'll get plenty of chances to do that as a Council Spectre."

"And now we've finally circled back. So… Why me, and What's with the ship?"

Hackett poured another glass of brandy for both of them and rubbed his beard. "For your first question, the Salarians mostly. The council demanded that we have a human Spectre to show our dedication to peace in the galaxy. The Asari demanded that it be a virile male with an ESPer rank at least four, the Turians wanted someone I'm close with, but the Salarians demanded that it be you specifically. The official reason is that you wouldn't be biased against them, since you are married to a Salarian, but privately I think they just want to annoy you as revenge for transforming their race."

"But why does that need to be done in such a limited ship? I looked through the blueprints, the thing doesn't even have a bathroom!"

Hackett just shrugged. "The ship was special built in co-operation with engineers from all the Council races. They completely veto-ed almost anything that used science they didn't understand. It was kind of odd how creeped out they were by the idea of passing through Hell as a system for fast-travel. We did cheat though; Little bit of Bigger on the Inside, touch of Infinite Supplies, and a complete suite of Technobabble gadgets. We still had to make it a stealth ship to give it a chance of working, but it should still function well."

Shepard just pouted. "Why do I need to avoid using technology just because they don't understand it? And how am I supposed to fit all my harem in such a small captain's quarters?"

"The council insisted that you play by their rules, using their ship, as a token of good will between humanity and the other races. Granted, the ship only needs to start out matching their specifications; if you get some 'necessary additional equipment', they can hardly complain."

The younger man's eyes lit up. "Very well, I will accept this quest. What's the first act?"

"Pick-up an artifact from a long-lost civilization on Eden Prime."

"Perfect. I have a plot already forming. Ashley will be stationed there, and be the only survivor as her unit is attacked by… eh, we'll decide that by dart throw… then we find a survivor of the lost civilization, discover the artifact has been activated, I'll get a new plot hook, someone trusted in the Citadel will be revealed as a traitor, and it'll all spiral out into a quest to save the galaxy from some great threat. How does that sound for an outline?"

"Sounds good. I'll give you Anderson as the Mentor who will step down, and meet you on the Citadel to deal with the politics. Have fun and make it memorable."

-Normandy SR-1337, Approaching Eden Prime-

"Space… The out-dated frontier. As long as humans could look up at the stars, they wondered What could be up there. Then they went and realized that it's mostly boring empty space. Now space is just something you need to get across to reach the interesting stuff."

"Joker, if you start a pilot log and turn this into SpaceTrek, so help me I will bug your Omni-tool to switch to a RickRoll every time you try to watch something."

Shepard stepped into the men's verbal sparring. "That was out of line, Alenko. No one deserves that kind of punishment."

"Apologies Lord Emperor."

"It's Commander. We need to play things like the Citadel for this mission." Shepard turned his attention to the other man in the cockpit. "Joker, what's your analysis of the ship?"

"With all due respect, _Commander_ , it's not the ship that's the problem; it's the idiots that decided to hold her back. She has all the makings of the fastest ship in the galaxy if they just gave her back the Dimensional Drive they originally had around the Tantalus Core. I flew her to the Citadel before she got handicapped, and you can really tell the difference."

"I see. That'll be the second modification for when this starts to open up after the turorial."

Kaiden twisted in his seat to look at the Level 6. "Second? What's the first?"

Shepard answered without hesitation. "Turning the meeting room into the new Captain's quarters. The side room that they assigned doesn't have enough room for my harem. I absolutely refuse to be a terrible husband by showing favoritism and only letting one girl stay in my quarters."

The two subordinates glanced at each other. Everyone knew what could happen if there was strife in a harem. "That makes sense. The girls would probably destroy the ship trying to be the one to sleep in your bed."

"Yeah, I can see why that'd be first priority."

"I'd give you my bed, if I didn't sleep in the Pilot's chair."

"I'm going to die halfway through the adventure to raise the stakes, so I don't really need most of my savings. I'll forward them to you to help pay for the modification."

Shepard wiped a small tear from the corner of his eye. "Guys, I'm touched. I'll make sure both of you get a shining moment of awesome and a side-quest!"

The blare of a com line opening broke the mood of the moment. Captain Anderson's sharp voice barked from the speaker, "Inform Shepard that his Temporary Squad-mate Spectre is waiting for him in the communications room."

"Affirmative, Captain. And be careful with that Turian, he's got a major stick up his ass for rules that he doesn't follow."

Awkward silence followed the joke. It lasted just long enough for everyone to realize that the Spectre was probably within hearing distance of the message. "…You're an idiot, Joker. Anderson out."

Shepard shook his head in disappointment. "And now I have to deal with him. For that, I'm cutting your side-quest for this game."

Shepard left the cockpit in mute disappointment, and quickly came across one of the soldiers he was assigned. The young recruit was arguing with Dr. Chakwas. "With all due respect Ma'am, I'm not stupid. I can see the flags just as well as anyone else. Eden Prime was my home, it's idyllic and boring, just like every other designated hometown areas. By the time we land, it's going to be a war-zone and most of the people I knew are probably dead already. I can't change that. All I want is to be able to avenge them."

"I understand your feelings Corporal, but that still doesn't explain how hair-gel would be a 'medical necessity.'"

"My name is Jenkins, I'm on a squad with THE Shepard, and I'm wearing a red shirt. If I don't change my character archetype, I'm going to die within fifteen minutes."

A hand landed on the young Corporal's shoulder, making him jump. Shepard turned the young man around and looked him straight in the eye. "Corporal Jenkins, what percentage of ESPers have controlled abilities?"

"Those who are Level Two and above; Less than point one percent, Commander."

"Have you ever wondered why that is, Corporal? Why so few? What makes them what they are?"

"I, I have no idea Commander."

"I'll give you a hint. What do we call higher level ESPers?"

"Heroes? Villains? Characters?"

"All of those right. You see Corporal, life is just a series of stories: there are heroes, villains, twists, rising action and climaxes going on all around us. Our power comes from these stories, and the roles we play in them."

"So why are some people more powerful than others?"

"Simply because they couldn't be otherwise. Yes, they worked their way up, but they never thought of themselves as anything less than what they are. So now think, what are you? If you were to die on this mission, what would you be remembered as? Would you rather go out as a failed protagonist, or a noble soldier sacrificed to the grimm face of war. I can guarantee you that you will be remembered far longer as one than the other."

The younger man stared at Shepard, awestruck. "Yes Sir! I understand, Sir! I'll gladly die for you, Sir!"

The Commander nodded in appreciation. "Good, because I expect you to. Now go and make sure that as many people as possible know that you are an eager, fresh-faced rookie filled with endless optimism so that the proper flags are set for everyone to mourn you offscreen when you die."

"Yes Sir!"

As Jenkins raced off to fulfill his instruction, Chakwas remained behind. "Do you want to know the worst part about being a doctor?"

"Is it the 'do no harm' part of your vow?"

"Not quite. It's the eternal clash between the desire to save life, and the recognition that death tends to make a story so much better. Almost half of the people I save go on to become obsolete or make terrible sequels." The older woman shook her head to dispel the morose thoughts. "We're both static characters that make their arcs out of influencing others. Be sure that you don't regret the changes you make…"

The woman made herself scarce as the conversation ended, a clean sign to Shepard that it was time to enter the communications room. The man idly planned how he would re-arrange it into the new captain's quarters as the Spectre stared at a projection screen. The silence stretched on until Shepard realized he was one step too far for polite Turian conversation.

The human took the step and Nihlus immediately turned to face him and began to speak. "Shepard. I'm glad I finally get to meet you. I must say, I'm a fan of your work. You converted an unashamed pirate as a child, effortlessly thwart any team STG sends against you, you were instrumental in both routing the Geth forces, and releasing many of them from outside control before re-taming them. That was all done before any other race would have even let you enlist, and your achievements only grow from there: the first alien to be recognized as a Krogan War-chief, and uniting all of Tuchanka under your rule, taking down the conglomeration of five crime families, saving a team of Turians who were tricked into a Thresher Maw nest. You even defeated the armies of Xim the Despot and now you nominally rule the largest empire known in Citadel history. And yet, despite all of that, your day to day life is rather simple and plain."

"It makes a better story that way."

"…What?"

"Don't get me wrong, I enjoy a fallen hero story as much as the next guy, but it isn't a sustainable basis for a series of stories. I suppose I could play it anti-hero style, but that would mean I couldn't be a good example for my kids, so that's out."

"…The more I learn about you humans, the less I understand."

Shepard just shrugged. "It's not that difficult. I have ample money from my adventures, and can create almost anything I need. The only things I can't produce on demand are Street Cred and good Waifus. Really, I'm just a simple man with near absolute control over reality, a very healthy libido, and the desire for a very large family."

"Know what, I'll just nod and say that made sense so we can move on. The point of this mission is two-fold. The first is to examine how you operate in the field. The second is to retrieve the Beacon and bring it to the Citadel, however I have no doubt that there will be no issues on that front."

Shepard stared in mild amusement. "Do you know the meaning of irony, Nihlus?"

The Turian never had a chance to respond since captain Anderson entered and activated the main viewscreen. "Your time for obligatory pre-mission talk is over. We should start receiving news about the attack on Eden Prime any minute, so I'll keep this brief. The flavor of this mission is a quest to collect a Prothean Beacon found on Eden Prime. This is going to be a full blown inciting incident that will start a quest to save the galaxy from some existential threat. Corporal Jenkins has finished submitting all of the necessary life insurance paperwork, and your wife is ready for her dramatic rescue planet side. Nihlus, would you kindly send a touching final message to your wife and child and make sure your will up to date?"

"My chances are that bad?"

Anderson waved his hand dismissively. "You really have to sell these things. But hey, if you're interesting enough you might get brought back. Good straight men are hard to find these days."

"I'd rather stay dead."

"Suit yourself. Joker, patch the incoming message onto the view screen."

The screen flickered to life and showed scores of humans in red shirts being gunned down by some type of robot. Shepard let out a low curse, but it was one of disappointment, not anger. "Drat. We already did robots, how are we going to make this interesting? Time travel? Cyborgs?"

Nihlus dismissed the humans' strange reactions and worked on forming a plan. "Shepard, I've seen how you handle crowds. You take the most direct route, and I'll sneak along the side while their attention is on you."

The nigh omnipotent man gave a patronizing whine. "Awww, did they not want to have to come up with skills for you when you were going to die so soon?"

Nihlus made a mental note to turn on his armor's body-cam when he landed. That way he could at least claim that he helped identify whatever would be dangerous enough to kill him.

-Fifteen minutes Later-

"ooooohhhhh nooooooo. Nihlus is dead. Who could have predicted that the hyped up alien who insisted on going alone would die?"

"You're a terrible actor, Milady. Step aside and let a Jedi show you how it's done." Kaiden waited for shepherd to give a nod before kneeling down to take the Turian's dead body in his arms. The man let out a contender for the most fake wail in human history. "Why Force, why? Why must the good always die young? First you took noble Corporal Jenkins, now you have claimed the Spectre Nihlus! Why did you have to go ahead alone Nihlus? I could have been the one to fill you dark soul with Lie-ight!"

Silence filled the platform. Shepard gave a polite cough. "We should go."

Kaiden unceremoniously dropped the body. "Right. What the plan for the artifact?"

Ashley put her head on her husband's shoulder. "It would be too simple if we collect it intact. How about it gets mysteriously damaged and it only gives a partial vision?"

Shepard grunted. "We still need to work in the alien survivor. Do we fall into her resting place after a climatic battle? Is she woken by the activation of the artifact, or perhaps its destruction? There are so many options, what do you think will be the most fitting?"

EDI's spherical avatar popped out from Shepard's communicator. "Shepard, One possible solution would be to have Tsu serving as a scientist, and have her awaken the Prothean to take care of the Geth assaulting the lab. The Prothean will fail, and you will save both of them."

The living god tilted his head in thought. "That might work. It would get Tsu into the story sooner, but I was kind of planning to have her come in at mid-way… Nah, you're right. EDI, could you send a message to your sister about her new role? Everything will appear into place in a few minutes." EDI gave an affirmative chirp and started to shrink, but Shepard caught her avatar in his palm. "And EDI, remember to keep your real identity a secret. I couldn't stand it if something happened to you."

The synthetic shifted her shape into her gynoid form and nuzzled her husband's hand. "Don't worry Shepard; I have bound my binary soul to Tali's suit for the moment. All you need to do is keep her safe." The miniature avatar gave a wink. "She will be in the facility ahead and to the left. I'll prepare her for you."

Ashley bowed her head as EDI left. "It's such a shame that she's stuck in that robot body: she'll never really taste again, or feel, or dream. Sure, she has power over most computers, but giving up her body and powers… Can't you do something for her?"

Shepard sighed. "I technically could, but that wouldn't make things better. When EDI is ready to ask and act, she will gain what she seeks. In the meantime, enjoy weakness with the strength. I mean, I certainly enjoy the way you go weak in the knees when-" Gunshots censored what he was about to say. "Right. We'll talk about this later; the plot awaits."

-The Prothean-

The Avatar of Vengence was roused from her stasis with all the grace of a husk invasion. She bolted upright and was greeted with the sight of a half dozen synthetic warriors approaching a group of organics. Her duty in this circumstance was clear, at least. She grabbed a gun and prepared to fight as well as she could while still fighting off the after-effects of the cryo-sleep.

Something was wrong about the whole situation but she couldn't place what it was. Her mind was still sluggish after just waking up, but she could still feel that not just her body, but the whole universe had somehow been changed so that two plus two equaled four instead of five.

But despite how different everything was, a gun was still a gun, and the avatar of vengeance was an expert. She pulled the trigger and scoffed as the telltale sound of solid projectiles echoed through the space. So primitive, but it would have to do. The first bullets bit into the metallic body of the leading machine and it soon fell to the ground leaking its coolant. The five remaining turned their attention to her and she was able to take down two more before they opened fire.

The Synthetics had worse aim than most green recruits, but their rate of fire made accuracy meaningless. Hot metal tore through her shoulder and grazed her side. She quickly slid behind her pod for cover and fired blindly. The pain from her shoulder made the weapon fall from her fingers.

As the enemies closed in, she allowed herself to wallow in her thoughts. _"If only I wasn't alone I could have won. I wish I had a real chance to restore my people and destroy the Reapers. What a pathetic end for my Vengence…"_

The machines rounded the corner to her cover and were just about to open fire when gunshots sounded from the doorway. A single man strode in confidently wielding two guns, and practically shining with the aura of an avatar of divinity. She wasn't surprised to see one of the organics who woke her leap into the man's arms while radiating mating pheromones. She herself felt her body decide that the man was a near perfect mate. One tiny problem remained in her mind:

"Wait, I was a male! How did I become a woman?"

-Citadel Council-

"We simply cannot accept any of this as valid evidence that Spectre Saren killed Spectre Nihlus. For all we know, what those humans saw was merely a cognitive trick that your peculiar powers made into reality. And we can't trust that you didn't somehow distort the recordings from the base's cameras and Nihlus' own suit to clearly show that Saren killed him. We also can't place any trust in the DNA samples that you gathered which show that Saren was on Eden Prime. There just isn't enough solid evidence to convict a Spectre on."

Shepard silently cursed every diplomat and politician in history as his mind raced for how to solve this unexpected hurdle. "What if I were to have a Quarian produce a fifteen second audio clip that's supposedly from a rouge Geth?"

The council didn't even need to consult each other, "That sounds like perfect ironclad evidence. Produce that, and we'll let you be on your way."

Still silently cursing, Shepard went away.

And came back seconds later with Tali on his arm and a new Turan friend following. The council handed them a slip with instructions already on it and declared him a Spectre.

Even years later he still isn't certain if they were just racist, or were looking for an excuse to make him grab more alien teammates.

- **Chapter 3 End-**

This chapter came out longer than expected. Don't you hate it when all that comes to mind is more world-building instead of actual plot? Oh well, it makes for fun reading.

So many text dumps about how humans in this world work. I don't have a problem, I can stop any time I want!

About EDI, Ashley's comment came from the fact that in so many sci-fi shows, prosthetics are so advanced that you'd think people would want to loose limbs so they could get better replacements. I wanted to intentionally do the opposite of that. Technology might make handy shortcuts, but its character and experience and form the basis of true power. I hope to bring that out more in any later chapters.

Might add more thoughts later, but good-bye for now.

NoctisxSol Signing off.


End file.
